The StarKid Story
by Blood.Red.Nobodies
Summary: I'm working on a backstory for Team StarKid how they met at University and stuff like that ... None of it is accurate to real life. I've basically taken real people and put them into fiction. It's not rated M right now, but it MIGHT be later.
1. Basement Arts

_**AN: So this first chapter is going to be SUPER boring because I'm basically introducing the main backstory and the plot and everything. Isn't the first chapter of every book/fanfiction just a boring intro, though? Just wait until the story gets going. I promise it'll get better from there. And if you couldn't figure it out, Lauren is the one hugging Darren in the very beginning.**_

_**THESE ARE ALL REAL PEOPLE PLACED IN A FICTIONALIZED STORY.**_

_**I only own the minor characters (Mr. Wage, for example). I actually named Mr. Wage after my school's band teacher since I was at a loss for names…**_

_**ANYWAY, enjoy!**_

oOo

**-2010-**

The occasional sniffle broke through the silent hush that hung between the small group of best friends. Finally, a quivering voice shattered what was left of the painful silence.

"Darren? How about you tell us how we all met… for old time's sake?" The short girl looked up into the puffy, red eyes of the man she was hugging. He smiled down at her and finally ended their embrace, looking back up at each of the people in the group that stood before him in turn.

"Let's see… I remember our first day in the theatre program. What an exciting day that was, too; the day we all got accepted…" he paused in his speech, clearly lost in a momentary thought or memory. Snapping out of it within seconds, he continued, "Anyway, here goes nothing."

oOo

**-2005-**

The students at the University of Michigan went about their days as normal. The group of kids with exceptional acting and singing skills took various private classes in the auditorium, never meeting their fellow theatre geeks. One particular day, however, the opportunity for them to meet arose. As the first student arrived at the auditorium for his private lesson, he noticed a large, colourful poster hanging on its entrance door.

"Basement Arts: see Mr. Wage to apply." he read the bold lettering aloud to himself. Shrugging, he walked into the auditorium and called out to his instructor, whom was setting up microphones on stage. "Hey, Wage! What's that poster about? The one on the door out there, I mean." The older man straightened up and turned to face the younger man who had just entered.  
"Mr. Criss, I was hoping you would take interest in this theatre program! It will be the most rigorous in the entire University, as it always has been. Perfect for you and a few of my other personally trained students."

"So I'm not the only student you're personally coaching? How come I haven't met the others?"

"That's the entire point of this program! It's to bring you all together in one class. Teaching you all individually is getting a bit tedious… Well," Mr. Wage hopped down from the stage and clapped his hands, striding up to the young man. "Are you ready for this, Mr. Criss?"

"Absolutely," The student answered, without missing a beat, "But, will there be an audition?" The student's teacher began to bring him towards the stage, placing a guiding hand on his upper back. They spoke fast and loud, as do most theatre enthusiasts.

"That is something I'll be arranging once I am sure that at least thirty students will sign up other than the few that I teach myself. If you are worried about what you will be singing, I was hoping you could pick an original Broadway show tune. As for a monologue, I'd prefer something Shakespearean."

"Wait, wasn't there already a Basement Arts before this, though? I remember hearing the name somewhere."

"Well, yes… It was formed in 1988, but it died out three years ago once all the good talent left the school. You and the three other students I teach are the most talented actors and singers we've had since then, so I think we can bring it back. I was hoping you knew some people that might be interested as well. If they're not great actors, we can always train them. We just need some singers. Perhaps we can work on some musicals, whether they are student-written or otherwise. So, how about it, Criss?"

"Of course, Mr. Wage!" the student enthused, "I can't wait to meet the other three. I'm sure we'll make it in automatically, though, so I'm not too worried."

"Lesson number one, never be too cocky. You never know how badly you can jinx yourself by being overly-confident."

"Of course, sir."

"Good. Now that we're on the same page, how about we start from where we were in yesterday's lesson?"

Darren would have concentrated on the lesson, had his mind not been rattling with excitement. All this new information was a bit much to take in at once, but as it soaked in, his thoughts became overrun by only those having to do with Basement Arts.

oOo

_**I'll introduce the other characters in the next chapter. I just want to see people's opinions on what I have of their backstory so far. You'll find o**__**ut more about the 2010 part in later chapters.**_


	2. We Can Do This

_**AN: *sees the favourites, follows, and reviews* "Fuck, I should update." So here is another boring chapter. I swear on my boss Zefron poster and all my Red Vines that this will get better, less slow, and less boring once I plow through how they met and get to the actual plot of the story. I also hope to write past 2010 and more into the present if I can get some solid ideas.**_

_**I thank you all for your kind reviews, by the way! I honestly didn't think that it'd be getting so much attention this early on, but I'm glad people are reading it!**_

_**Anyway, before I get around to rambling more, I present to you: chapter two!**_

_**(Warning: There are many superfluous words in this chapter. Oh well.)**_

oOo

**-2010-**

"Mr. Wage? Who's that?" The crooked-jawed friend who had interrupted with this inquiry tilted his head to the side questioningly and continued, "I don't remember him..."

"That's because you never got to meet him, you goof. I'm getting to that." Darren's reply was followed by his own short sigh at his friend's confused expression, when a taller, muscular man spoke up.

"See, Joey, since you and A. J. got into U-M two years after all of us, except Nicky and Brolden of course, who you were three years behind, you two never got to meet Wage."

"That makes more sense. I was wondering who he was talking about, but I had the respect to not interrupt." A. J. said, grinning at a still confused Joey.

"Well then what the hell happened to him, Mr. Know-It-All Walker?" Joey ignored A. J. and was now questioning Joe, keeping his tone teasing in an attempt to lighten the damp mood. Instead of answering, Joe turned to Darren, a certain emotion showing in his eyes that he was clearly struggling to smother.

"I think Darren should include that in his story." Darren gave a short nod in agreement, his dark, curly hair getting into his face with the slight motion. He shot Joey a look before speaking again.

"Now if I could continue without being interrupted, that'd be fantastic."

"No need to be snarky, Dare, I was just wondering."

"I'm just messing with ya, and you know it." He smirked at his pal before launching back into story-telling mode. "Now you've made me lose my place, Joey. Thanks a mil-"

"You were talking about how Wage told you about Basement Arts," a girl piped up from her seat; a beanbag chair on the apartment floor. "Maybe you should skip our first meeting, though. We only have so much time left until we have to be at the airport. Wouldn't want you to miss your flight."

"Damn the flight! A good story must be told all the way through. Besides, the only reason I want to leave is because I'll be living in a bigger apartment. This one is total shit. Other than that, I'm grateful for any opportunity to stall a little longer." Darren wiped his eyes free of tears and addressed the group once more, "I think we should all copy Jaime and sit down. This might take a while."

They did as Darren told them to, sitting themselves on the various pieces on furniture around the room. Those that didn't get seats crowded together on the floor. Once everyone was settled and hushed, which took a little longer than usual with people fighting over beanbag chairs and unceremoniously shoving each other around, they refocused their attention to Darren. He had claimed a spot on the arm of the long couch and a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth, "Now, as I was saying before I was _rudely_ interrupted by Joey here..."

oOo

**-2005-**

A nice breeze rolled across the campus, but not many students were outside to enjoy the fresh air. After all, most of them were still in classes, but the lucky few that had a free period decided to enjoy the calm spring weather. A small group stood in the shade of a tree, clearly involved in a causal discussion. An average sized man that appeared to be in his mid-thirties jogged up to them, catching one of the shorter boys in midsentence.

"I've said this a _thousand_ times already! She can too-"

"Matt! I'm glad I caught you." The man was slightly out of breath from his light jog and paused for a large breath before speaking again. "Oh, were you busy? Sorry to interrupt, but I need to discuss something with you."

"No, it's fine, Mr. Wage. I'm sure they won't mind if I leave. By the way, I know you've read _Harry Potter_ and I was wondering if you could help me convince my friends there is nothing in any of the books that says Hermione can't-"

"There's no time for that. You're next class starts in five minutes and this is important." Mr. Wage was already dragging his student away as he spoke.

"Alright, alright, what's going on then?" They had stopped walking and were standing about ten yards from a gaggle of giggling girls.

"I wanted to know if you'd be interested in joining Basement Arts. I know I've spoken with you hypothetically about it previously, but we're actually bringing it back. You brother doesn't work with me on Wednesdays, so I won't see him today, but I had to get to one of the Langs. You two are the best directors and writers in this University. We'll need the both of you in order for this to succeed."

"Well, sure, but you know I'm not much of a performer…" When Matt looked at the girls over his companion's shoulder, it seemed that they had moved slightly closer. It wasn't hard to tell they were eavesdropping. He bit his lip and lowered his voice, leaning in closer to his instructor so the girls wouldn't hear. "You know I can't sing or dance."

"Excuse my language, but that's bullshit and you know it," Mr. Wage chuckled, "I suppose if you really prefer working behind the scenes, I'm sure we can work something out."

"You really think we can get enough talent to bring the program back, though?"

"Of course we can. One of my other students knows a few people who are decent singers. I'm sure that you and your brother can find some performers as well."

"I know a few." Names were running through Matt's mind even before it was suggested he find people to join. A grin split across his face. _Maybe we really _can_ do this._

"Fantastic! I'll introduce you to the two other students I work with one on one. They're the performers. They'll probably know more people like them than you will, though, considering you and Nick mostly talk to other aspiring directors, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Actually, you'd be surprised. I have this friend, Jaime, and her voice is fabulous. She's been _dying_ for a theatre group to come here since the beginning of the year. You'll love her, trust me. I have a few more names in mind as well."

"Do you have their cell phone numbers?"

"Um…" Matt hesitated for a moment, "Let me check…" He let his backpack drop from his shoulders and propped it on his knee as he searched through the pockets. When he found his phone, he flipped it open and pressed a few buttons. "I have them, yeah."

"Could you shoot them all a text later explaining what we plan to do?"

"Sure, I'll do it after my last class this afternoon." He slid his phone into his pocket and zipped up his pack, slinging it over his shoulders again.

"Speaking of which," Mr. Wage checked pulled up his sleeve and checked his watch, "It's nearly time for your class. Better get going so you're not late. If your professor asks, just tell them to see me about it."

"Shit, you're right. See you tomorrow!" Matt turned and jogged towards the science building and called over his shoulder, "Thanks for bailing me out, too. I owe you one!"

"You can pay me back by remembering to text your friends!" Mr. Wage laughed, shaking his head. When he turned around to walk back to the performing arts building, he walked right into the group of girls. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know you all were standing there, my apologies!"

In silent unison, they flipped their hair, turned up their noses, and walked away, leaving a bewildered professor in their wake.


	3. A Personal Vendetta

**AN: Once again, thanks for the reviews! They give me the motivation to keep writing. I've actually never written more than two chapters of any fanfiction because they never got noticed before. I'VE BEATEN A PERSONAL RECORD, WOOHOO.**

**To clear things up a bit (though no one has asked), Darren is telling their story to the StarKids, but I'm not writing it as if he's telling it. I'm writing it as if we were in that time period (same way I write 2010). If I wrote from Darren's point of view, it wouldn't be as interesting because we wouldn't get the relationships between other StarKids, plus Darren would leave out the bad parts (later to come)… I just write things in an unusual way, I guess.**

**Before things get too weird, confusing, or spoilerish… Chapter three!**

oOo

**-2005-**

"Brian fucking Holden, will you get up already? It's Thursday and you have your class thing, or whatever, in twenty minutes."

_No need for the wake-up call since I was already up all night, you moron. _Brian thought to himself, as the person addressing him started tapping his feet impatiently from where he stood in the doorway to the bedroom. Even still, Brian still didn't remove himself from the warmth and safety of his bed, causing an irritated noise to escape the other young man.

"I refuse to let you miss another class! This is for your BFA and you need to start taking it seriously."

"Alright, fine, will you just shut the hell up? I was already awake." The muffled voice snapped through the blankets. He pulled the covers off himself and sat up, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness of the morning sun that streamed through the window, "Why do you do this every damn week? Go away or I'll switch roomies." Brian shielded his eyes from the sun, trying to glare at his friend in the doorway, but failing miserably. The friend turned to leave, but had to get one last comment in before doing so.

"Twenty minutes, just remember that. I honestly don't know what you'd do without me," he said on his way out.

"Yes, mother dearest." Brian mocked him, false sweetness practically oozing from each of the words he had spoken. When the door shut behind his roommate, Brian let himself fall back onto his pillow. _I'm not in any rush, really… After all, it's Wage. He's never pissed at anyone. Especially not me._

After about five more minutes of just lying there and staring at the ceiling, Brian rolled off his bed and into a pile of clothes he had been too lazy to put away. He sat on his haunches as he dug through the pile, looking for something nicer to wear to class than his boxers.

Pulling out a wrinkled tie, his most un-stained collared shirt, and a pair of his best dress pants, he silently hoped that what he had was good enough to wear for his monologue today. The last thing he needed was Wage taking points off his score for his clothing being in a poor state.

Brian pulled his clothes on and tied a knot in his tie, trying to flatten out the wrinkles in everything as best as possible. He left his room and ignored his friend, the same one that offered a rude wake-up call a few minutes ago, who was currently offering him some leftover pizza as a breakfast substitute.

Next thing he knew, he was already standing in front of the door to the auditorium. The walk to get there was a blank in Brian's mind, but he shook it off, not caring that he hadn't paid attention to the trip.

He had gotten to the auditorium five minutes late, but hesitated before entering. _If you don't do well, this could affect your chances of receiving your BFA in the future. _Brian contemplated this for a while, and when he finally walked in, he was surprised to see his instructor speaking with another student. Blatantly showing no consideration for their conversation, he walked over to them and spoke loudly as to get their attention.

"I'm here and ready to perform, Wage. Who's this kid?" Brian watched as the other student shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"This is Nick Lang. He is one of the other students that I coach in one-on-one classes similar to yours. I've mentioned him a few times before to you." Mr. Wage, who seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Nick was uncomfortable, continued on excitedly, "I would like you to skip your monologue for today, Brian. Perhaps you two should get to know each other a bit? You will be working alongside Nick, his brother, and another student of mine named Darren Criss to bring back the Basement Arts program to this school. Have fun bonding! And play nice, Brian, will you?"

Mr. Wage left in a hurry, eager to leave the two young men to their own devices. Nick opened his mouth to speak, but Brian cut him off immediately.

"Look, I don't really like you already. In fact, I don't like anyone in this goddamn place. I'm here to get my Bachelor of Fine Arts degree, graduate, and get the hell out of here. It's nothing personal. You're just unlucky enough to have been caught in the middle of my vendetta with life. If you expect me to open up to you right now and share everything about that life, then you've got another thing coming."

Without another word, he turned around and strode to the exit. Brian left Nick standing there alone, save the echoes of the door slamming against it's frame that reverberated off the walls of the empty auditorium

"Nice to meet you, too." Nick sighed.

oOo

**AN: Sorry this was so short, as well. I didn't want to include any 2010 in this one because there's a lot more of that coming soon. Also, I apologize for the slow updates. School's a bit overwhelming at the moment.**


	4. UPDATE: I NEED FEEDBACK!

_**AN: I am so sorry for not updating in a whole year! I get the occasional email about new comments and follows on this story and I can't seem to get the plot out of my head. I still remember everything I'd had planned out before so I need a little feedback here.**_

_**If any of you are still following this story and see this "update" could you tell me if you still want me to continue this story or if you're over it. Just leave a quick comment. Honestly, I won't be too upset if you say you don't really care anymore. I just want to know if it's even worth continuing.**_

_**Thank you so much for all your kind comments and feedback!**_

_**In response to the person who said Basement Arts wasn't a class, I just wanted to say thank you for the clarification, but this IS a fanficiton after all. It's my version of reality, so I'm sorry if little details aren't right. This is just how things happened in the little world in my mind. :) *lessthanthree***_

_**-Marisa**_


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